


Cinder

by evelitan



Category: 300: Rise of an Empire (2014), Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Work In Progress, a bit of a mess, totallyAU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-01-01 02:45:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12146934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelitan/pseuds/evelitan
Summary: What happens when two powerful warriors meet? One is a druid, born with magic greater than any king’s arrogance and the other is a favorite of the gods. One desires a throne that is rightfully hers and the other wants nothing to do with royal affairs. Kingdoms crumble, Empires rise, Heroes are born and Champions fall…





	1. Steel and flesh... life and death

**Author's Note:**

> AU! Hi guys! Okay so, this fic is inspired by two amazing actresses and two very different projects. One is a TV series and the other is a movie. The timelines are a complete mess so there is nothing real in this fic, it starts where 300 rise of an Empire ends and before Morgana and Arthur’s final battle. I realize some of you won’t like it, so please don’t be offended by this it’s just an idea that came to me and I apologize for any grammar mistakes you might find along the story. For those of you who do like it, I am thinking of writing a few more chapters. Usually I’m a huge fan of the good Morgana and she did deserve better, but just for fun I decided to try something new now. Rated M for future chapters. The characters are not mine and I don’t mean any interference with the canon projects, as I said, this is just for fun. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment, leave kudos or share or just enjoy reading it.

_Steel and flesh... life and death... **war…** _

The voice whispered in her ear, the voice of a woman filled with cold determination, pain, and what terrified her most was the _lust_ for vengeance she could feel creeping slowly through her entire body. Sensing every fiber of her being tingle with decisiveness to kill or be killed, a fierce look in those azure eyes and an even more ferocious grip on the swords she could feel in the palm of her hands. One sword down, ready to attack, the other up to defend… For a heartbeat, Morgana could see a reflection from the sword, a pair of blue eyes looking straight at her soul. _Her ferocity bested only by her beauty…_ A pale face and a smirk so familiar that it both excited and scared her in equal measure. This woman’s hair was so black and beautiful that even the ravens were envious, wearing an obsidian armor with a golden plackart that protected her, but also accentuated her figure strikingly.

Morgana turned and trashed around in her bed, the sheets were long since discarded on the stone floor. Her nightgown was rumpled all the way up to her waist and small droplets of sweat made their way from her temple, down the side of her face, caressing those sharp cheekbones, _it moves through her hair as gently as a lover's hand._

_“Steel and flesh... life and death…”_ – This time those words echoed not through her mind, but through her room, the previous whisper of an unknown female voice, was transformed into a barely understandable mumbling for a sleeping queen.

“WAR!” – Was the deafening shout that made Morgana jump awake in her bed.

Seeing the room around her she quickly remembered that it was just a nightmare, but then she closed her eyes to take a long breath and relax, what a mistake that was.

Suddenly she could smell the smoke from fires that she had never seen; she could smell the burning flesh of both animals and people mixed with the ashes of a fallen city, a great city she had never gazed upon, not once in her life. For that single second, that split moment in time, she could hear the agonizing screams of the fallen and taste the briny tears of the wounded… men, women, children… the horror was for all, equally for the guilty as for the innocent.

When the sensations became too much, when all that overwhelmed her, the only thing Morgana could do was quickly turn to the side and empty the content of her stomach on the stone cold floor. She could still sense the itching taste of her nightmare in the back of her throat.

As if it wasn’t enough that she had her brother on her mind and how to win this war against him, now she also had to deal with these nightmares, these memories? These glimpses of the future? These sudden consciousness crises? These… whatever these experiences were now was not the time for them.

After a couple of moments when her heart regained its normal beating rhythm and her stomach felt lighter, she quickly stood up and began dressing and attached her sword on her belt. It was obvious she would not go back to sleep even if the stars were still shining brightly in the sky, she might as well do something useful. Therefore, with long, confident steps, Morgana made her way to the roof of her castle, where no man ever bothered her.

Step to the left, block, kick, block, step forward, block and attack… she repeated these patterns so many times that she lost count, for once her mind was blank and she just let the blade move on its own accord. Knowing her muscles will complete the movements her head refused to imagine at this very moment. These movements were etched into her essence, ever since she was a child and practicing only made her better with time.

Kick, block, step forward, block and attack… The young warrior only stopped when she sensed the ground beneath her feet shake and momentarily turned around. Her visitor did not surprise her, but in her state of concentration, she had been completely oblivious of the few times Aithusa had circled, flying around her.

No man ever dared to disturb her there, but Aithusa was always welcome, the white dragon was her tether to reality and they shared a bond of great devotion to one another and usually a look was enough for them to communicate. Aithusa was still young and she could not speak yet, but they didn’t really needed her to anyway.

Morgana stopped her training and discarded her armor, putting her sword down, gently, the creature was still a little jumpy around weapons and the sorcerous had no intention in causing her friend any discomfort.

“No need to give me that look, my friend, I just couldn’t sleep.” – Morgana laughed it away, knowing Aithusa sensed the lie. Sometimes the dragon’s intuition baffled her, she could not understand how a creature who could not speak and probably does not understand her language anyway, could understand her feelings so effortlessly.

When Aithusa lowered her head and nudged Morgana on her shoulder, the young woman understood that her training time was over. They had this routine, Aithusa and she, whenever one was distressed, the other could feel it and without words, Aithusa settled down, making a ball with her body so Morgana could just lie there for a while, or if she was lucky until the sun came up completely.

Dragons had much more heightened senses than humans did or even dogs, they could sense trouble and that is why Morgana let herself sleep for a little while, for the only way she could relax and allow her mind to drown in white noise was when Aithusa was with her. And that’s how the sun found them…

Morgana woke up from her slumber, relaxed and ready for a new day of planning strategies for the upcoming war with Arthur. Part of her hated this whole situation, loathed the fact that her own friends and family betrayed her. Both sides hag hurt each other so much over the last couple of years…too much for it all to be forgiven or forgotten. They had passed the point of no return a long time ago, now, the only way out of this; the only possible solution to the conflict was war.

Morgana began feeling sick again, she had no desire of a repeat of last night’s events, so she decided to go for a walk on the beach. The water always soothed her anxiety and now was one of the best moments to take advantage of the irritable waves the sea greeted her with this morning, the water was full with seaweed and it was muddier than normal. There must have been a storm somewhere out there because the seashore was capped with clam’s shells and more seaweed.

There was a light breeze coming from the sea and Morgana took a deep breath, but then her eyes noticed something in the distance, something much bigger than seaweed and much darker too.

Now that she took a few steps more, she could make out clearly the silhouette of a person, a woman with dirty and torn apart clothes and a cut on her stomach. She looked like dead, but when Morgana looked a little closer, she saw the almost unperceivable movement of her upper body, her lungs fighting for air and suddenly her eyes! Those azure blues that seemed so familiar that Morgana’s breathing seized for a moment. It was **_her_** … but how and why?

 TBC(?)


	2. Winds of Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemisia wakes up and Morgana gets very frustrated with her guest. Be patient with the story, we're still at the beginning of the journey :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So here we have the next chapter, yes some of the wording is the same as in the movies, I admit I borrowed it, what can I say it just fitted very good in the story. I am sorry for the delay, but I really hope you like it. Don’t be shy to comment and leave kudos in case you do or you can always leave me a PM. I am sorry for any and all grammar errors, enjoy!

It began as a whisper, a promise, it felt as a light breeze that floated through her raven locks, caressing her face and hardening the bloody streaks on her face. Had it been anything else instead of drops of fresh, hot, warrior’s blood dripping from her, she would easily be mistaken for Aphrodite herself, but the goddess of love was far, far away from the battlefield that day.

Artemisia felt the lightest of breezes dances through the rigging as it creaks above the death cries of 10,000 men, she felt the air change, become heavier, right before she heard the distant cries of the enraged approaching Spartans. The Greeks had united and leading them were the Spartans, the proud Spartans that just like her men, were led by a woman. Queen Gorgo was even more of a formidable foe than Themistocles himself was. A woman was all it took to beat one of the greatest fleets in the known world and another woman was the only thing that could stop her from conquering all of free Greece after that.

Artemisia gathered courage and pushed back Themistocles sword and angry sparks engulfed their blades for a moment, she had been studying him for a while now, his fighting, his planning, his way of thinking even his fucking, without him even knowing.

Alas, Themistocles was smart and used her momentarily distraction to his advantage, even though she gave him a wound that was slowly killing him, he still stood tall when he drove his sword into her, making her gasp in shock and surprise. From that moment on, she could only see the events surrounding her; she fell on the wooden deck of the massive ship and in a matter of seconds, hundreds of Spartan boots were stomping around her. The last thing she could see before a Spartan warrior kicked her in the water was Themistocles on his knees and one of her generals fishing the job she had started. The blood oozing from his thigh was painting the wood under him bright red, he was going to die in the puddle of his own blood and it was just a question of time. Artemisia’s lips barely reacted and twisted in a humanly imperceptible smile, but her eyes were shining with revenge, the revenge she so yearned for.

Between the cradling movement of the water and the cold that was beginning to creep slowly from her hands and toes, directly to her heart, she relaxed and left her mind drift into blank. Listening to the screams of the dying and the clatter of swords and arrows, the rhythm of war kept her heart beating, slower by the minute, but never the less, still beating in her chest. Her eyes drifted to the sky and she could finally see the bare circle of the sun through the gloomy fog that swathe the battle, she was ready.

But just before her last conscious thought could escape her mind, a voice, soft, but firm came to hear ears and barely whispered “Not today, Artemisia, not today.” She had not lied, she was ready for death, but it seemed that death was not ready for her, at least not yet and before she could muster a reply, her body gave up to the waves and the sounds of battle were just a distant agony in her mind now.

….

Four days and nights had passed since Morgana found that mysterious stranger on the shore near the castle, four days during which neither she nor the healers she had among her midst could give a certain answer of whether that pale looking woman will live or die.

Lying unconscious on the bed, her body week, her heart barely beating, her eyes shut, Artemisia was reliving her battles in her mind. She was not dead, but that did not mean she did not suffer, being tortured by her own mind, while her body was fighting tooth and nail to survive in this earthly dimension.

Morgana never allowed anyone else but her to tend to that strange woman, she felt the need to help her, just like she did once with Mordred. That sweet little, frightened druid boy that grew from her friend to her enemy, to her ally, to her sorrow…

Morgana made sure to keep the other woman’s lips moist with water and bring her enough furs for the nights. She even went as far as to cast a healing spell on her, something that Aithusa was not very approving of, but reluctantly conceded at the end. Some of the men around her thought the woman was a spy sent by Arthur, but something in Morgana told her that she wasn’t a thread and she clanged to that small voice inside her.

Three more days had passed, the paleness of Artemisia’s skin slowly faded, and her natural skin color gradually returned and the wound on her stomach had begun heeling. The high priestess had yet another potion ready to moist her lips, but just as she touched them, the girl’s eyes fluttered open.

“Touch me again and I will end you.” – Said between gritted teeth the lying woman. Had it not been said with such helplessness Morgana would’ve laughed at the futile attempt to make a thread at her, but she knew from the moment she looked into those deep brown eyes that the woman in front of her was not be mocked, especially for her pain.

“Usually when you save someone’s life a thank you is a better reply.” – Morgana said coolly.

“I should be dead.” – The woman barely spoke, had she been dead she would not feel like an army of elephants stomped her over.

“And yet you are not.”

After a moment of silence, the wounded woman looked around her, taking in her surroundings and wondering where she was, how did she get to that room lit with candles and why was it night already? How long had she been unconscious? She was visibly exhausted and Morgana knew she needed her sleep to get better.

“My name is Morgana and you are in my castle. I found you on the shore a few days ago, but you were barely alive. Obviously, you’ve been into some sort of a… predicament, but I do not know what or why.” – Morgana talked slowly, accentuating each word.

“I am Artemisia, commander of the Persian navy, but I have never heard of you.” – She said with a carefully balanced voice and a strange accent, not wanting to show the pain she was actually feeling coursing through her blood as she attempted to stand, but only managed to sit on the bed.

“Well I have never heard of you either, so I supposed we are even. Drink this, it will help with the pain.” – Said Morgana and handed her a cup of something that she had no idea how to describe.

Artemisia was carefully eyeing the content of the cup, taking a whiff to see if she could recognize some of the herbs inside. She was suspicious and Morgana saw the hesitation.

“Look if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of rescuing you at the first place.” – She said with tone much lighter than before.

Another few seconds passed and Artemisia relented, that drink was simply awful, but she gulped it down to the last drop and quickly felt herself drifting back to sleep once more.

Over the course of the next few days the new objective on Morgana’s mind was getting Artemisia to stand up and take a few steps around the room, it wasn’t as easy as it sounded though. The younger woman was still very weak and she could barely stand on her feet for more than ten seconds without bucking, but Morgana quickly saw how stubborn Artemisia actually was. Soon, standing in one place turned into taking a few steps around the room and after a week of painful tears, gritted teeth and two sets of ripped stitches, Artemisia was on the way to gaining back her past strength.

No other heelers were necessary once she had woken up and Morgana had taken it upon herself to nurse the broken woman on the bed back to her previous healthy self.

“One more time down the stairs.” – Artemisia said just when Morgana was tugging her back to her bed to rest, Artemisia alone had already done three circles around the room, went up and down the stairs the led to her room three more times. She was beginning to pant a little and a bead of sweat made its way from her forehead, to the ach or her perfect eyebrow and down her left cheek.

“Are you kidding me? You are already out of breath. You can’t go one more time up and down those stairs.” – Said back Morgana and went to mix the potion she had brought with her with some water.

“Watch me.”

And just like that before Morgana could protest, Artemisia started descending the stair case, for a healthy person two sets of twenty – seven stairs were a bit of a challenge to go up and down three times and here she was Artemisia, going for a fourth time with angry red stitches on her abdomen.

“Are you trying to kill yourself? Because if you make me stich you up one more time I’ll kill you myself and save me the trouble.” – Said Morgana angrily, blood was not her favorite thing to have on her hands in spite of what all her soldiers thought.

The descending of the stairs was easy, but going up for one last time was the difficult part and Morgana could see another bead of sweat rush its way on the other woman’s face. She could only imagine the pain Artemisia was in and so when she finished mixing the potion and the water she exhaled her frustration and silently descended the stairs too.

“I don’t need help.” – Artemisia said through gritted teeth.

“I am not offering it; I’m simply walking by your side.”

True to her word, Morgana did not offer to help Artemisia, but just twelve steps before the finish, the blue eyed girl miscalculated a step and grabbed Morgana’s hand to steady herself. It was just an instinct and Artemisia didn’t pay much attention to it, but when she regained her equilibrium she didn’t let go and took a step up. Morgana held her hand just as tightly and followed her to the top without saying a single word; only a slight smirk appeared on Artemisia’s face and Morgana’s eyes softened.

 

_TBC_


	3. Wrong move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here we are again, let’s see what happens when Artemisia is ready to explore around...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all and any mistakes and I am looking forward to know you opinions. Enjoy!

There was something magical about the constantly changing October weather, some days were hot, others were cold and slowly only the afternoons permitted slightly higher temperatures. The mist that surrounded the castle and the trees each morning and each night reminded Artemisia of her home in Persia and she quickly casted those thoughts away.

The trees around the old castle were colored in every possible color of the rainbow and the surroundings looked like a kaleidoscopic puzzle. Artemisia awoke with the first sun rays and slowly began getting ready for the day, today she was finally going to be able to walk around those woods and her feet were anxious to get moving.

Making her way to one of the windows in her room, she couldn’t help herself but close her eyes, look up at the sun and take a deep breath. The air smelled like rain and soil and leafs and that unique smell the cold weather always had, but something seemed not quite right, something in her made her instincts scream in warning and she looked around. Everything seemed in order, no suspicious movements around in the forest, no fire signals… and yet something wasn’t quite right.

“I see you’re ready for today.” – Said Morgana as she slowly walked into the room, Artemisia had started leaving the door open just so the other woman would know that her presence was welcomed.

The warrior had begun grumbling and arguing with every other healer the priestess would send when she had other stuff to do, mainly training, being with Aithusa and planning her next attack on Camelot and Arthur.

“Don’t even think of telling me I’m not ready Morgana. I can’t stand being in this room anymore.” – Artemisia almost whined.

“I wouldn’t dare to tell you what to do, but I am coming along.”

“I don’t need a baby sitter.” – Artemisia said through gritted teeth.

“Good, because we don’t have any here. Look, you don’t know the terrain, you don’t know the dangers lurking around and not to mention that we are in the middle of a war with my idiot half-brother…”

“I can take care of myself, but… I guess having someone who knows the region isn’t a bad idea.”

Sure, Artemisia could take care of any trouble she could encounter, but why risk it, besides something tingled in stomach at the thought of having Morgana by her side, so she just reluctantly agreed to the offer. Great, the last thing she needed now was some stomach virus catching up on her.

For the most part of the walk, the two women enjoyed the relative silence interrupted by the occasional bird song. Being able to feel the light wind on her face felt good, Artemisia had grown near the sea, she was always connected somehow with it and she loved it as much as she hated it. She remembered the humid salty breeze that felt sickeningly sticky in the warm summer months and the small drops of water sticking to her face when she was on board of her ship. She could remember the smell of the sea and feel a bitter taste in the back of her throat; yes … she could remember the splash of blood that erupted from Themistocles’ thigh when she wounded him. She could feel her own blood trickle down from her abdomen, she could also remember when those drops of salt water turned into blood and a tidal wave of heroes’ blood washed the shores of Greece…

“Artemisia!”

For a second Artemisia felt like someone threw a bucked of cold water on her, it was the first time Morgana had raised her voice at her, but her tone was gentle. She looked concerned.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening, can you repeat that?” – Artemisia surprised even herself with that answer, she had never been so… respectful with someone until now. She always challenged authority, she never liked having to talk to her generals and she was always talking with short, clear sentences, not caring what the others had to say. Nevertheless, Morgana had saved her life, she even reminded her of someone she used to know long before, but before her mind could drift off again, she concentrated on the present moment and the woman in front of her.

“By the look on your face you were very far away from here. Something is bothering you, or perhaps… you’re missing someone.” – Morgana meant to say that as a question, but it came out more as a pure statement tinted with a bit of an unfamiliar emotion.

“I was just thinking, there are still many things you don’t know about me or the battle that eventually brought me here.” – Artemisia said.

“I know, but that look on your face… that longing, I could recognize anywhere. You lost someone dear to you.” – Morgana pushed again.

“Thread carefully Morgana. Themistocles was many things to me, but never “dear”. He was a good soldier and a very good strategist, but he was just a distraction. A toy I liked to play with, a mouse. His resistance amused me, his rage gladded me, his fighting was harder than his fucking though.” – Artemisia laughed coyly at the end of that, remembering the look on his face when she told him that, but the moment she looked at Morgana, she saw how her usually pale cheeks had a slight reddish color to them. Was she really blushing?

“I never said anything about Themistocles, during your sleep you were mumbling some things, mainly gibberish in another language, but you repeated a few times what seemed to be a name. Gora, Gogo… Gorgo! Yes, that was the one.”

The surprised look on Artemisia’s face said it all. She had never thought her mind would play such a dirty trick on her, there was a time that name would bring a smile to her face, but it didn’t last long and the last time she saw that woman she could only see hate in her eyes.

Not wanting to talk about it anymore, Artemisia just turned around and kept walking. Her injury prevented her from going too fast, but Morgana took the hint and stayed silent. They walked for another twenty minutes more or less and between the trees, a small clearing came to view. The usual oak and ash trees started fading and slowly birch trees started surrounding them.

She was as further away from the sea she could possibly want. Her surroundings had no blue in sight, the sky was mainly grey, the tree branches were still covered with most of their leafs, gentle yellows, vibrant oranges and bold reds painted the foliage and the carpet of leafs they were stepping on and the water in the small pond was crystalline.

“Whatever you do, don’t run.” – Morgana told her when they were just in the middle of the clearing. Even though it was a warning she didn’t sound very disturbed and Artemisia was just about to start walking faster, just to get a reaction out of the priestess, but out of nowhere the sound of flapping wings could be heard and in a heartbeat a huge beast landed in front of them.

“By the gods!” – Said Artemisia while looking at the dragon in front of her, but true to the warning she did not move a muscle, even if her feet twitched for a moment.

Aithusa was much bigger when you were standing in front of her that what she looked like from afar. She was all white, except the eyes, they were pitch black and a symbol she had under her right wing, a Triskelion. Aithusa had a long neck, the spiked on her head were still very small and her appearance was rough around the edges. She would no doubt be a magnificent creature one day, but now she looked like she had lived through hell and the suffering and sorrow Artemisia could see in her eyes, made her heart ache for the first time. She never felt bad for people, everyone deserved what they got and she never stopped to look twice at the warhorses some of her generals had, they were proud and ill-tempered creatures, but Aithusa looked at her intrigued.

Morgana chuckled and decided to interfere before Aithusa got even sassier, sometimes the telepathic connection with her flying friend was not easy, mainly because it was a bit difficult to explain to a young dragon that saluting someone that could not hear her voice was scary for that person. Apparently, not many people liked to have a growling white dragon in front of their faces, mainly because of the size of their teeth perhaps.

“Aithusa, behave please.” – She says still chuckling.

“She is… bigger than I thought.” – Finally said Artemisia once she regained some of her initial composure.

“She is still a baby; dragons live for hundreds of years, but she is the last of her kind. Long ago, Uther, my father kept one in his dungeon, but that didn’t work out very well.” – Morgana said.

Aithusa sniffed Artemisia once more and turned her attention to Morgana who petted her gently on the head and neck. And for a moment those black eyes Artemisia was watching so carefully flashed with affection and gratitude and Morgana smiled again.

“Go on, we’ll be here for a while.” – Said Morgana to Aithusa and before she could finish her sentence the dragon jumped in the air and started batting her wings again. Artemisia didn’t know much about dragons, but she was sure that nothing that could fly would be so … uncoordinated with its wings.

“She isn’t very good at flying yet.” – Morgana said both sadly and proud.

“Tell me about her, you two seem to have a history.” – Artemisia urged gently.

“Don’t we all.” – Morgana tried to deflect, but the warrior’s gaze was a clear indication that she wasn’t getting away with it so easy.

“Aithusa was born from magic, but magic was strictly prohibited in the kingdom of my father. Long story short, she and I became friends when I had none left, I don’t know… she saw something in me I guess. Arthur, my half-brother and his friend Merlin, thought of a plan and left me on the bottom of a well for two whole years, what they didn’t know is that Aithusa was with me. It was the two longest years in my life, but Aithusa was there by my side and it gave me strength. So, one day, when we managed to get out, I couldn’t leave her, I couldn’t be separated from her side. She is still very thin and small for a dragon her age, she only started flying four months ago, her wings are weak and more often than not she falls when she tried to land on her feet.”

Even though her expression never changed, her voice faltered and Artemisia noticed it.

“That long story seems like an important detail in all this.” – She tried.

“It is, but it’s also a conversation for another day and another place.” – Morgana sounded as cool as always.

Artemisia was ready to answer back, but something caught her attention in the distance. A brief flash and the unmistakable sound of an arrow being released urged Artemisia to take cover, but instead she quickly threw herself over Morgana. The arrow only grazed the priestess’ shoulder, but Artemisia’s heart quickened its pace.

“Run!” – Morgana shouted and they both started sprinting. Even injured, Artemisia was fast and agile, her strength was growing with each day and the exercises helped her endurance so besides the dull pain she was feeling, emanating from her abdomen, she had no problem with keeping up with Morgana.

“Was that your brother’s soldiers?” – Artemisia asked while running.

“Yes and if we don’t hurry up, you’ll get to meet my brother’s army as well.”

“Why don’t we just fly out on Aithusa?”

“She’s too young! And I already told her to meet us at the castle.”

If they weren’t running so fast Artemisia would’ve slapped herself for the stupid suggestion, but this time the words escaped her mouth quicker than the thought could cross her mind. That was very unusual for her, completely out of character.

_Run, just run and don’t look back_ – was the only thing Artemisia could repeat in her mind, not letting the thought from the sharp pain that coursed through her body distract her. She could hear Morgana’s rapid breathing and after a few turns they came in front of a giant cave.

“Come, we’ll hide in here and wait for a little while to make sure we’ve lost Arthur’s knights.”

“There were just five of them, we can take them on, I’ve seen you training.” – Artemisia proposed, but Morgana only shook her head and carefully looked out of the cave.

“You are injured and I am not strong enough to fight them and protect you at the same time. Besides I think we lost them in the forest, we better get back to the castle.”

“I thought you wanted to wait a while.”

“We should go back and warn my guards, if Arthur attacks, we need to be prepared.” – Said Morgana and took a few steps outside the cave still looking around for any signs of their attackers, insisting Artemisia walk behind her.

“Okay, have it your way. However, once we are back you are giving me a bow, a quiver full with arrows and a sword.”

Morgana laughed at that.

“You are seriously delusional if you think you’re ready to start training with weapons yet. When we get back you are taking it easy for a while.”

But Artemisia’s eyes narrowed and she took a step closer to Morgana, she was older than the priestess by a few years, but she was also a bit taller than her.

“Make me.” – She said with a low and dangerous voice. True, Artemisia would still need a lot of sleep and rest until she recovered completely, but Morgana could see her hands involuntary twitching from time to time, not used to not feeling the weight of a weapon in them. She was a warrior and she would always be one.

Morgana had not imagined that response when she spoke earlier and she definitely could not help but feel the other woman’s body so close to hers. Those icy blue eyes that bore into her very soul, made her clear her throat as her cheeks flushed again, for a second time today, this was certainly a strange occurrence.

“We will continue discussing this when we are back in the castle, for now though, we should move.” – Said Morgana and quickly started making her way back. The warrior followed closely behind her and occupied her plan with arguments of why she needed to get back to training with weapons.

 

 

_TBC_


	4. By the Gods!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thank you so much for being patient with me and I’m sorry I didn’t update earlier, but I hope this longer chapter will make up for that. For the people who do like Arthur, Guinevere and Merlin, don’t get offended guys, this is just my fictional point of view. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I apologize for any and all grammar errors. I’m eagerly waiting to hear your opinion 

Once everyone had settled in for the night, Morgana was left only in the company of the full moon and the cloudless, starry night, the events of the day quickly began to catch up with her and her mind filed with thoughts. The rooftop had become her personal sanctuary. The crisp nightly air caressed her cheeks with a gentle bite that tainted her cheeks with red hues, almost as red as her lips. Even her white furry cloak couldn’t stop her from shivering from time to time, but she secretly loved the sensation of the cold air on her skin. Her hands were hugging her flexed elbows and she seemed to stare into the darkness ahead, a darkness that engulfed the lands around her castle and served as cover for Arthur’s spies. Her mind had never been more active than tonight; she was almost killed today because of her foolishness. Arthur was like a petulant child, whining for attention in every possible way, always looking for a way to come off as a hero with Gwen and Merlin always by his side… Merlin… that treacherous rat.

There was a time when she used to call these people her friends, her family, but that seemed like lifetimes ago. Since Uther’s death all hope of reconciliation died, numerous attempts to finish each other once and for all were made by both sides and yet here they were standing still… still breathing… still plotting revenge.

Every time Morgana thought of Merlin, her heart ached, not of love lost before it even started, but of rage. Rage at his unwillingness to help, knowing personally how it felt to have magic in a kingdom where magic was punished with death. Rage at his loyalty towards Arthur, but complete disregard for the rest, but then again she had seen him looking at the young prince, he might have never said his heart’s desires aloud, but his eyes screamed with everything that he tried to keep muted. Merlin protected Arthur no matter the cost, but who protected Morgana from Uther’s wrath when she opposed him? Who defended Morgana when she stood her ground in front of a mad king? Who shielded Morgana from the utter betrayal of everyone around her?

“It’s a beautiful night tonight.” – Came a gentle voice behind her. Artemisia moved closer like a cat, never making even the slightest of noises and always so graceful.

“Yes, it is.” – Morgana said, still distracted with the thoughts in her head, but when Artemisia didn’t answer, but just stood by her side, she turned to look at her.

The older woman was mesmerizingly, down straight bewitchingly captivating. Her skin was just a shade darker than Morgana’s, but still reflected the radiant light of the moon and that combined with her azure eyes gave her an almost mystique air of a statuesque personification.

“You mind is racing, what’s gotten you so distraught?” – The warrior asked.

“You mean apart from the fact that we almost died today?” – Morgana’s words were dripping with sarcasm.

“It’s war. We never know how long we have before a well-aimed blow with a sword plunges into our heart or a well-timed release of an arrow brings you to your knees.” – Artemisia offered in return, not affected by the icy tone of the woman by her side.

“I don’t need you explaining to me what war is!” – Morgana snapped, but Artemisia remained as calm as the water in the sea she hates so much.

“You need to plan carefully your next move. Calm down and think! Think like your brother and then think five moves ahead.” – The Persian said.

“Stop teaching me how to lead _my_ war!” – More anger spilled from Morgana’s lips.

“You are angry because you endangered Aithusa today, you have a connection with that creature and it is making you weak. Your magic is not enough.”

Artemisia was tiptoeing a very dangerous line, she could tell from the stare Morgana was giving her, she could practically feel her anger emanating from her.

“Let me help you, it’s only fair to return the favor, you did save me. Let me show you how you can win this war.” – Artemisia continued, for a moment a flashback from her time with Xerxes passed through her mind, but she quickly discarded it.

“And what is it that you gain from my victory?” – Morgana asked trying to figure out the answer before it came.

“I can’t go back to where I came from. Greece has never been my home and Persia was just an excuse to carry out my revenge. Xerxes is foolish enough to let all my conquers go to waste, the crown on his head is there because of me, but his delusional sense of divinity will drive him and the great empire he rules to the ground. If this is to be my new home, I want to make sure it doesn’t go up in flames and… as I said I owe you a debt.”

Morgana listened carefully to every word and calculated every risk. Her dreams of Artemisia had only intensified since she found her on the beach, damn that little voice in the back of her mind that whispered to trust her.

“Okay, you may help, but if you’re so willing to help you should know some stuff about me and where I come from. Tomorrow, after breakfast, we can go for a walk in the forest and we’ll talk.” – Morgana said and took a step back, retrieving to the door of the rooftop.

“Take your sword.” – Said Artemisia and saw how Morgana quirked her right eyebrow up.

“We are also going to practice some face to face combat. With your magic not strong enough and your enemies lurking around it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Hurting you while you’re still recovering would be ill-advised.” – Morgana tried to argue.

“Believe me, you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Cocky much?” – She asked with an arched eyebrow and almost playful voice.

“Scared much?” – Artemisia replied and walked back to her room.

The next morning came quickly enough for both of them, sleep eluded the two women, but while one meditated watched Aithusa sleeping soundly by her bed, the other was sharpening some swords and daggers.

Aithusa seemed so small and young when she was lying, curled on the ground, softly breathing. Wherever Morgana was, Aithusa was not far behind, they were connected, their fates intertwined and it was still too early to tell how Artemisia fitted in that puzzle.

The mornings were becoming colder, but the air was lighter and the sun was shining brightly. Once Morgana finished breakfast, she quickly went back to her room to grab her sword, when a slight knock surprised her.

“Morgana, are you ready to go?” – Asked Artemisia shyly.

“Yes, I just need a minute to find my sword, it’s been a while since I used it…” – She said in a particularly nostalgic voice.

“I’ll go easy on you, don’t worry.” – The warrior said patronizingly.

“You seem to forget you’re talking to a high priestess.”

“You never let me forget that. Come on, talking isn’t training.”

Morgana and Artemisia, both dressed in light armor, were walking in the woods for almost half an hour already, it was important for the druids not to see Morgana practice with her sword, they followed her because they believed in her magic. Even if one of them had any doubts about her magic, they could get discouraged and decide not to fight. There was no place for weakness.

“We’re here.” – Said Morgana and out of the blue she heard the swooshing sound of a blade pass just millimeters from her ear. And if it wasn’t for her incredibly quick reflexes she might have felt just how sharp it was.

“Are you crazy?” – Morgana asked incredulously.

“You could’ve cut me!”

“Your enemies won’t wait for you to decide when is convenient for them to attack!” – Artemisia barked back. Truth be told, she never would’ve let her hand stray that far as to cut Morgana accidentally, but the sooner they started the better it would be for both of them.

Morgana had that slightly angry sparkle in her eyes and her smile was positively wicked. Flexing her knees she stood in position, with her hands holding tightly the hilt of the sword, she could feel the soil from under her boots. Each twig, each fallen branch, each pebble and leaf around them made the small clearing even more alluring to spend time there and had it been anyone ese but those two, they’d probably have noticed the beautiful colors surrounding them and the rabbits jumping around.

However, Morgana didn’t even wait a second before she charged forward, attacking Artemisia from the side, but the Persian had no problem moving her own sword quickly enough to stop the blow. Last time she had used a sword literal sparks flied around and her anger engulfed her, but this felt relaxing, completely opposite from before. Another swift attack came from Artemisia this time from above, but once she blocked it, the priestess felt numb pain from her abdomen, only noticing the foot Artemisia was setting down to the ground.

The air rushed out of her lungs, but the smile on her face became even wider.

“Should I have said that I didn’t want to hurt you too?” – Asked Artemisia with a cocky smile.

Another attack followed in a heartbeat after that and Artemisia was forced to take a few steps back while trying to escape Morgana’s blade. The green eyed woman proved to be a formidable opponent, but her technique was sloppy, she obviously had some formal training at some point of her life, but it was clear that she needed a lot of practice. Her attacks were predictable and her defenses weak, after a number of close hits Morgana could feel herself starting to take shallower breaths, but they continued sparring for a while more. They had fallen into a wordless cycle where one would attack and the other would defend, and then again and again, until they were covered in sweat and dust, and had leafs in their hairs. Morgana had blood on the left side of her lips and just under her right eyebrow and Artemisia only had a swollen lower lip.

The moment Artemisia squeezed her eyes in pain, she had just managed to disarm Morgana and throw her sword away from where they were, but the younger woman threw some dirt right in her eyes and managed to lunge forward and tackle her opponent to the ground. Artemisia was smaller though and managed to flip their positions, locking Morgana in a headlock with her hands and squeezing only tight enough to make the other woman give up.

“Where did you learn to fight?” – Asked Artemisia when they got up.

"I used to train with the knights of Camelot. I was even better than Arthur." - A bitter taste tainted her mouth the second she spoke those words and a blanket of silence fell over them.

Artemisia could see Morgana replaying the bitter memories in her mind, but one of the things her Persian training taught her was that to become stronger you need to get broken first.

"So you grew up in a castle surrounded by servants eager to please you. You poor thing." - Artemisia pushed.

"I grew up surrounded by people who hated the likes of me!" – Finally, Morgana broke and shouted out.

The priestess was looking furiously at the warrior in front of her, thinking why she even let a complete stranger get that close to her. She cursed the tiny voice in her head and her dreams, but the anger and pain were too much to keep them bottled down any longer.

"I grew up believing I was an orphan while my true father, Uther Pendragon, king of Camelot, took me in as his ward. It wasn't until a few years ago that i found out my true lineage and then I also found out that he would never recognize my real status. I'd always be the ward of the king while Arthur, his son, the so called crowned prince of Camelot at the time went on silly quests that only suited to boost his vanity and ego." - Morgana spoke slowly, but the anger in her voice made Artemisia's hairs in the back of her neck stand with equal measure of awe and fear. That calm tone could fool many people, but the general had learnt long ago that exactly this kind of tone was the most dangerous one. Artemisia however, remained quiet and Morgana kept talking.

"... then one day Merlin came to Camelot and things started going from bad to worse. That scrawny looking boy turned out to be one of the most powerful wizards of all times. He is the reason my magic is failing me from time to time now. He always protected Arthur, from everything and everyone. While he did managed to keep him alive, he failed to teach him valuable lessons. Lessons that can only be experienced with loss and betrayal. Arthur fell in love with my servant girl and things got even more complicated.

With each passing day my powers grew and I was scared, petrified I'd hurt someone by accident and Merlin just stood there and watched my struggles. Me, the king's ward born with magic? That would have cost me my life.

One day during an attack on Camelot, Merlin poisoned me and left me for dead. He was a coward, he looked me in the eyes and handed me the skin filled with poisonous water and watched as I begged him for help. That day I lost not only my friends, but also any hopes of peacefully sitting on the throne of Camelot. Wearing the crown that is my birthright. “– One, single tear fell from Morgan's eyes, one small drop of salty water that held a hurricane of emotions. The story seemed to have more details Morgana was hiding still, but for now, Artemisia had pushed enough. She already knew some bits and pieces from it all, Morgana had already told her about Aithusa and with that new information the puzzle in her head was beginning to solve itself slowly.

"I can understand your anger. I know how the raging flames of hurt engulf your heart, I have felt it myself, still feeling it to some extent. I spent years as a slave on a Greek ship. I was raped, beaten and humiliated more times than I can count. I saw my family being slaughtered in front of me, but that didn't stop me from crushing one of the best fleets the world had ever seen. Only rivaling my own Persian one. Let me help you win your war. It doesn't make the pain of what you lived go away, but it does even the score and everyone who says that revenge is for the petty they can go duck themselves."

Morgana slowly moved her gaze from the leaves on the ground to Artemisia's legs, torso and then her eyes. She could see the warrior’s eyes tilting with just a hint of madness and she liked it.

"Okay, teach me how to be better and when I am crowned Queen of Camelot, you can have whatever your heat's desires."

"We have reached an understanding then. Your guard falls from time to time and you hold the sword too tight, don’t suffocate it or your hands will tire even more rapidly." - Artemisia said and squeezed Morgana's hands while circling her slowly until she had her front pressed to Morgana’s back.

“Your technique is good, but sloppy, your guard falls from time to time and you must learn to keep your position when you defend." – Artemisia accentuated each word.

“Your shoulders are too tense.” – She trailed her hands lazily from Morgana’s hands to her elbows, to her shoulders. He voice became huskier and her hands maneuvered to her sides, feeling the muscles on her back and still going lower. In all her years, Morgana had never felt that incapable of moving.

“Your balance is too unstable.” – The Persian’s hot palms descended to her waist, maneuvering her body, turning her gently to the right, readying her for a fighting stance.

“And since you’re tall, you have to bend the knees a little bit.” – That was when Artemisia’s hands caressed her thighs and Morgana couldn’t take it anymore. The priestess jumped startled the second the other woman’s hands reached her thighs and she prayed to all the gods she knew that Artemisia wouldn’t inquire about that.

"Why are you blushing so much? You look like some virgin from the temple of Apollo." - Artemisia asked laughing and Morgana knew she had prayed for too much.

“What happened with “talking isn’t training” thing?” – The priestess asked with a shaky voice.

Morgana rarely lose control over her body like this, but she couldn't stop the red from her cheeks creep down to her neck too and she forgot how to speak for a moment.

"By the gods, you can't still be a virgin?!" - Artemisia almost shouted in disbelieve.

"What? No! I'm definitely… not a virgin, stop saying such things… We should get back to the castle anyway, we have to get you familiarized with the terrain and Camelot itself." - Morgana fidgeted and tried to brush it off, but she wasn't very successful.

"Gods, I don't believe it." - Said Artemisia and continued chucking.

“I am really starting to regret agreeing to train with you.” – Deflected Morgana, she was getting fidgety and it had nothing to do with her exhaustion from the fight, but before she could make a quick step to go back to the castle, Artemisia grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

“I did go easy on you.”

“I am not complaining about a few scrapes and bruises, but you’re… vexatious some times.”

“Wait until I get you in alone in a room with me.” – Artemisia winked and laughed again, but Morgana’s mind was still contemplating the wonderful touch of hands she felt mere moments ago and the blush on her cheeks still had not gone away.

Walking back took them longer though, both had landed and received some powerful blows and they looked like they had single handedly take on Arthur’s whole army. Morgana’s ponytail was disheveled and the dried blood in the corner of her lips gave her a primal look, raw and beautiful at the same time. Artemisia herself was looking a bit battered, trying to get all the leafs and twigs from her loose hair and wiped the blood trails from her nose. They managed to keep each other alive and without any broken bones, but their training was more like a fight between two lioness than a play between two cats. The blows were real and the pain grounded them, but each of them was hiding a sly smile from the other, it seemed that the bruises were worth it.

 

_TBC_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is probable that next week I won’t be able to post an update because I’ll be travelling, but I’ll make up for that, I promise.


	5. A question of pride and perils

Most of the days, had the same pattern of continuity to them, the usual early get up, breakfast, train and then convene the council with her most trusted advisors and a few she had appointed as generals. Every day reports were given on Arthur’s army, their progress, and their numbers sometimes even the occasional spy or two were caught and executed. Many soldiers lost their lives and many druid people took their last breath over the constant battles.

The weather itself slowly shifted from slightly chilly to frosty cold, even the earth one day was coated with a thick layer of white blanket. Morgana liked to dedicate her free mornings to taking a walk around the grounds and each breath she’d take, she could feel the fresh icy air entering her chest, like an ice cube slowly making its way down her throat. She loved the sensation of the frosty atmosphere, there was something serene about the stillness of it all.

Morgana had lost track of time and she had no idea how long she had been standing on the balcony again. It was one of the places where no one would bother her and she often stepped out for a gulp of fresh air to clean her head. It was a good day today, the sky was completely grey and the sun was not shining with its usual intensity, it was more like a distant lighthouse in the sea. There was absolutely no wind and the snowflakes that were falling from the sky decorated the heavy branches on the trees surrounding her castle.

Just as Morgana was getting ready to step back inside and start getting ready for the day, she felt a strong, but careful hand clap her mouth and a sharp edge pressing on her throat. Her pupils dilated and her first instinct was to step on the attacker’s boot and punch him in the gut, freeing herself and then laying waste to whomever dared to intrude on her privacy like that. However, in a split second, the lightest of breezes appeared and a scent of raw oranges and canella invaded her senses and made her smile, her body relaxed and the assailant let her go.

“Next time, when you try to jump me alone in my room, don’t wear perfume.” – Morgana said and turned around to face the woman behind her.

“Actually, I was thinking of wearing only perfume.” – Artemisia teased back.

This playful banter had become normal for them, Artemisia would tease and push Morgana, the high priestess would blush and fluster and she would change the subject. Over the passing couple of months the familiarity between them had grown significantly and the guards were no longer shocked when they would see them together and even after returning from the forest covered in cuts and bruises, they’d no longer go running to defend Morgana.

“You should hurry up and get dressed, today we’re changing the place of our trainings.” – Artemisia spoke.

“Actually today, we’re celebrating. It’s winter solstice, a holy day for my people and me.” – Morgana said nonchalantly.

“Ugh…ok...” – Artemisia tried to remember what she could about that day, but she never really celebrated any holy days.

“Don’t worry, there aren’t any big traditions for today except the feast tonight. But as a high priestess I am expected to show up for the formal ceremony this morning.” – Morgana said as if she had read her mind.

“Well, in that case I should leave you to your stuff then.” – Said Artemisia and began walking out of the room.

“Artemisia, wait!” – Morgana had forgotten to tell her the most important part.

“I have been thinking a lot about our trainings and I’ve seen you fight on several occasions, you also saved my life once. And I wanted to ask you, not in front of everybody of course, first I wanted to know your opinion on the matter, but…I would like you to become commander of my personal guard.” – Morgana said quickly and by the end of it, she was fidgeting with her hands, betraying her nervousness.

Even though Artemisia was surprised, she wouldn’t say she didn’t feel excited at the opportunity to get back on a military post. True, it wouldn’t be commander of thousand ships, but still it would do for now.

“I will think about it, Morgana, but don’t expect my answer for tonight.” – She said.

Being close to Morgana was the only side of the job she wasn’t sure how she’d manage, with each passing day Artemisia found herself more and more attracted to the priestess, but she couldn’t allow herself to act upon it. Morgana had offered her a place to stay for as long as she liked and now a job that would allow her lifelong training to be useful for something again. There was no way she could see herself marrying a farmer and living from the work on the fields and entering a nunnery was well in the zone of the imagination.

“Even if you decide not to accept, you’re welcome to the feast tonight. I will have Willow bring you a set of clothes you can wear.” – Morgana said.

“I’m not putting on anything itchy, high priestess.” – Artemisia said with a smirk that told Morgana not to test that statement.

“Okay, nothing itchy I give you my word.” – She shook her head.

“You know, I’m free after the ceremony and the feast doesn’t start until well past the sunset, do you want to go for a walk? That way you will see the terrain more and have a better understanding of it. There are stuff that one cannot learn from the books.” – Morgana asked.

“Okay, I’ll meet you behind the kitchens when you’re done and we can go wherever you like.” – Artemisia nodded and took her leave.

The druid ceremony for the solstice consisted of a small group that included the high priestess herself and a few more druids to follow her into the forest and give thanks to the nature and the magic it provided them with.

“That was quick.” – Said Artemisia as soon as she saw Morgana coming towards her.

“Our rituals are fairly simple.” – Morgana shrugged and both made their way to the east side of the forest.

“I imagine you skipped breakfast again, here, you can’t expect to use your magic if you faint from hunger.” – Said Artemisia and handed her a bright red apple.

“Thanks, but I hate apples.” – Morgana tried not to sound like a stubborn five year old, but she didn’t quite manage it very well.

“I don’t care. It’s food, you can’t even fight properly without nutrition in your body.” – Artemisia spoke again and this time shoved the apple in Morgana’s hands.

“You know, you’re really bossy.”

“Yes, I know. How do you think I managed to keep that moronic excuse of a “god king” that was Xerxes on the throne for so long?” – Artemisia smiled, but her words were dripping with venom for said person.

“You never really told me about that.”

“There’s nothing really to tell… I … I was used as a slave as a kid and discarded for dead, a Persian master found me and nourished me back to health. He thought me how to fight and plan, and then I rose up from a simple soldier to the commander of the Persian navy. A thousand ships under my command… but I still wasn’t of royal blood.”

“But still, if the people cherished you so much, they could’ve easily rebelled against the king.”

“King Darius was a good man, a good king, but his son wasn’t half of what his father was. Besides, I never wanted to be a Queen. The politics of the court aren’t for me, I long for the feeling of a sword in my hand a bow on my back. I am not a politician, but a soldier. I never wanted the throne for myself.” – Artemisia said.

Talking with Morgana was something that made Artemisia feel better about her past, about her choices. Morgana never judged and she listened carefully to each word she said. It wasn’t long before they reached the bridge over the river that would take them to the clearing Morgana was hoping to show the Persian.

“Are you sure this bridge will support our weight?” – Artemisia eyed the overpass suspiciously.

“Of course it will, it has been here long before I was born.” – Morgana answered confidently, but Artemisia paled even more.

“That’s exactly my point.”

The bridge was at least ninety feet long and the ropes were black from the mold that had formed thanks to the humidity in the air. The wooden steps were mostly intact, but there were some that were broken in half and others that were missing completely.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re afraid of crossing a simple bridge?” – She teased, knowing well enough that pride was Artemisia’s weakest spot.

“I can cross that bridge with my eyes closed, I’m just saying I don’t want to get wet before the feast and I can see the ice in the river from here.”

“It’s a good thing we aren’t jumping then, because honestly, I can’t even swim.”

With that confession Artemisia didn’t know if she should laugh or be even more nervous, how was it possible for someone who lived close to the sea to not know how to swim?

Morgana started walking first and there was nothing easier than the first forty feet of the bridge, however, things were beginning to get tricky now, some of the wooden steps were creaking loudly from the use and age they had and the next step Morgana took, had almost coasted her her life. As soon as the priestess’ right leg stepped on the wood it broke and made her loose her balance, grabbing the nearest rope she could, not thinking about how that sudden movement would affect the rest of the structure.

“I told you this thing wouldn’t hold on.” – Artemisia said just a few steps behind her.

“Oh come on, it was just one step, it’s not like the whole bridge is falling apart.” - Morgana said and in that exact moment a crackling sound came from the distance and another tremor followed.

“You were saying…” – Artemisia knew she wasn’t helping the situation, but she did tell her so.

“Artemisia, go back, slowly!”

“I’m kicking your butt next time we go training for that.”

“As many times as you want, but now start stepping back.” – Morgana sighed exasperated. She really should’ve learnt how to swim.

One step back and the crackling sound of tearing apart rope sounded again. This situation was getting messier by the second and… out of nowhere, the left side of the bridge collapsed and the women were left hanging in the air, barely gasping the remaining ropes.

“Any bright ideas Morgana?”

“Well… we probably will survive the fall, the river is deep enough, but the current is quite strong and I can’t even swim. I can’t call for Aithusa because she can’t fly still, so… we’re on our own.”

“Can’t you fix the ropes with your magic or something?” – Artemisia tried again, she really didn’t want to see just how deep the river was.

“I told you, my magic is barely existent at this moment.” – Morgana said and one of her hands slipped from the grip she had on the rope that used to be the right “wall” of the bridge.

“Morgana!” – Artemisia shouted, but she could see how difficult it was for Morgana to hold on with just one arm.

“I can’t hold on much longer…” – Morgana tried to say something more, but before she could finish, her second hand slipped from the humid rope too and she instantly started falling down, all the while screaming Artemisia’s name and desperately grasping at the air around her, kicking with her legs and waving with her arms as she was going down.

 

TBC…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! Long time no see, I know. Well, I’m back home now and this is part one of the update, I won’t make you wait that long for the next one though. I think we all wanted to see how things between our two protagonists are advancing, so I hope you like the chapter. Enjoy the reading and I’ll see you very soon with the next one.


	6. A Queen without a throne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So here’s the new chapter, I hope you enjoy it. Because it’s holidays time and almost Christmas, I won’t be able to post an update until around NYE, but I’ll try my best. Thank you for sticking around and happy holidays!

Had anyone told her six months ago that Artemisia would find herself in this particular situation, she’d probably have taken it as ramblings of a mad man, a soldier unable to cope with the battlefield horrors perhaps, it wasn’t uncommon to hear about men losing their sanity during war times.

However, for the first time in a long time, she acted before thinking first, she rolled her eyes in a brief moment of disbelieve in her own actions, but Artemisia didn’t even wait for Morgana to hit the water’s surface when she let go of the rope and plunged into the blue waters beneath. And yes, the fall was faster than she expected and the yes, the water was freezing, but what else would one expect from a river that was covered by a thin sheet of ice on both sides and floating ice fragments in the middle?

The first contact was the worst, Artemisia had not felt such sensations before, one of the bad sides of living in a warm place was that it never snowed there! A cough and a gurgling sound came somewhere around her and she quickly looked around seeing Morgana wobble in the water, trying desperately to gasp for air.

Not wasting a second Artemisia began swimming towards the other woman, the damned current was a bit difficult to handle, but she continued moving swiftly and quickly to Morgana, finally catching her. The younger woman was currently unconscious, but the Persian tilted her head back and grabbed her by the waist. Normally, she would go for the back of her neck, but with this current that was not advisable. Millions of tiny daggers began creeping through her body, her arms were starting to feel the strain of the situation and her legs were moving as if she was swimming around shredded glass, it was time to get out if she wanted to keep her limbs.

At this point, every small effort to drag herself and Morgana on shore or even move for that matter, felt like an extremely strenuous act. Yet Artemisia only gritted her teeth and moved even more determined, with every move that caused her pain, the fire behind her eyes intensified, until she finally managed to get them safely on the snowy ground.

She took a deep breath and regretted it for the hundredth time that day, being in the icy waters was horrible, but being out of it, and surrounded by snow was perhaps even worse. Her lips were starting to look bluish, but she went to Morgana’s side and lowered her head to the priestess’ nose and lips, trying to get her own shaking under control, Artemisia could not hear nor sense Morgana breathing so she quickly began breathing in her mouth. Once, twice, three times… nothing.

“If you made me jump in the water just for you to die now, I’ll be pissed Morgana.” – Artemisia said angrily and blew one more breath of air into Morgana.

Apparently, the angry rambling had effect or maybe it was due to the air being pushed down her throat, but Morgana opened her eyes with a loud gasp and after lot of coughing and water spitting, she managed to sit up and slowly get her breathing under control again.

“If you were so eager to learn how to swim you could’ve just asked me on a warmer day you know?” – Said Artemisia laughing and shaking from the cold.

“But then you could’ve said no.” – Said back Morgana.

“Seriously though, thank you for jumping after me, you had no obligation to do so.” – Morgana said, suddenly turning their conversation serious.

“I didn’t jump out of obligation, I jumped because you saved me and I couldn’t just let you die.” – Artemisia said.

“Oh…well… thank you anyway.” – Morgana murmured with a little sadness in her voice.

“I’d be eternally grateful though if you tell me that there’s a faster way back to the castle, I can’t even stand up right now, much less walk all the way back.”

“Unfortunately, there isn’t any other path back to the castle, but I think I can help and warm you up a bit at least.” – Morgana offered and it was too good of an opportunity for Artemisia to just let it slide had it not been for the cold breeze piercing through her skin.

Closing her eyes and concentrating on the thumping of her heart and the shakily breathing of Artemisia, Morgana took a deep breath and opened her eyes, concentrated, looking right behind the Persian.

“ _Bata agus bóthar a thabhairt do” –_ It was not even a full second later when huge bright flames appeared out of nowhere and a whole tree behind Artemisia was burning brightly. The pine wasn’t a very tall one, but it was enough to melt the snow around it and Artemisia sensed the soft warmth from the fire, caressing her trembling body.

“So, you couldn’t just patch up the bridge, but you can light an entire tree on fire with your magic?” – She asked incredulous.

“I um… I was aiming for the bushes on your right.” – Morgana said again and glanced at said bushes, still heavy with snow and icy droplets.

“Oh.” – Artemisia almost hummed that one.

“I accept.” – She continued.

“I am guessing we’re not talking about you attending the feast in a dress tonight?” – Morgana teased.

“I accept being the commander of your personal guard, if you’re sure you still trust me enough to give me the post.” – The Persian’s husky voice was like a melody to Morgana and made her listen very carefully to her voice, not always registering the actual words right away.

“After today Artemisia, I trust you completely.” – Morgana said serious.

Neither knew how, but apparently, they had moved closer and closer to each other while they were talking and now they were face-to-face, deep green looking into ghostly blues and slowly getting even closer… before a woosh of wings and a gush of air made them jump back.

“Morgana, are you ok?” – Asked Aithusa. She had been flying far from the castle, testing her endurance, but the moment she had sensed Morgana’s distress the dragon went back and began searching for her. Even though only a couple of months had passed, Aithusa now looked every bit of the majestic dragon she was supposed to be.

She was still very friendly and open with Morgana, but she had begun flying more often on her own and daring to go further and further with each flight.

“I sensed your panic, what happened?” – Aithusa asked quickly and turned to where Artemisia was sitting, grumbling in her direction.

“Aithusa, behave. It’s a long story, but we’re fine. Artemisia saved me in fact.” – Morgana scolded playfully.

The dragon would never attack unless the specific order was given and Morgana knew that, but Artemisia froze every time Aithusa did that.

“Couldn’t you find a horse or an elephant to accompany you? No, you just had to have a dragon…” – Teased Artemisia.

“And just for that you’re walking back to the castle.” – Aithusa said and Artemisia froze in her place, slowly blinking.

“She speaks.” – The warrior sounded more surprised than she looked.

“Of course I speak, I just thought it was pointless to speak to you.” – Aithusa said, but Morgana interfered before this little conversation got out of hand.

“Come on you two, you can continue your banter back in the castle.” – Morgana jumped to straddle Aithusa, moving back a bit, making space for Artemisia as well.

“Just don’t jump princess, I draw the line at jumping in an icy river for you.” – Smirked Artemisia.

“Fair enough, but I like flying too much to ever let go of Aithusa.”

“I thought she wasn’t old enough to carry the extra weight.”

“Have you seen her in the last couple of months?” – Morgana laughed and didn’t even bother to answer the question.

The simple truth was that Artemisia hadn’t bothered to look at Aithusa, her mind was busy thinking about the high priestess that made sure she had proper clothing and every weapon she could ever desire. The Persian had started practicing her double sword fighting and she was too excited to teach it to Morgana soon.

All thoughts evaporated from Artemisia’s mind the moment she felt Aithusa move under her, flying was something new for her and she was still getting used to the feeling of Aithusa.

“I hate flying.” – Said firmly Artemisia and Morgana tightened her hold behind her.

Their clothes were still damp with water, but the closeness felt good. Once Aithusa landed on the castle grounds, both Morgana and Artemisia rushed to their rooms.

“Meet me outside the ball room at sunset, you’re my guest of honor and it would be only fitting that you escort me to the feast.” – Said Morgana and the other woman barely had the time to nod her understanding.

A nice, hot bath was the first thing both women went for the second they stepped into their rooms, after that Morgana was a bit fussy about how she wanted her hair to be done. But, she finally settled on slightly loose waves that framed gently her face and a silver crown with rubies and sapphires on top of her head. A midnight blue dress, with silver selvages and swirling patterns hugged softly her figure, accentuating every curve and every dip, the corset lifting slightly her breasts.

After great amount of fussing over how she looked, Morgana was walking down the hall towards, she was suddenly very nervous and her hands couldn’t stop shaking, not from being cold this time, but out of sheer nervousness for seeing Artemisia again.

And true to her word, Artemisia was there, waiting for her, making her blush the moment she laid eyes upon her. The warrior was dressed in a beautiful A-shaped sleeveless black and gold dress, simple, but extremely elegant.

“Good evening your highness.” – Artemisia’s voice seemed even huskier than usual and her eyes were almost black with something Morgana never expected to see, desire.

“I’m not a queen, Artemisia.” – Morgana said with a tinge of sadness in her voice.

“A Queen doesn’t always need a throne. She just needs faithful subjects. I have seen how people around look at you, yes some are afraid, yes some are intimidated, but most of them look at you with hope in their eyes. You put food in their bellies and care for their children, you protect every man, woman and child that lives around. I can only talk about myself, but I pledge my loyalty to you. Now and for as long as I breathe.” – Artemisia looked directly into Morgana’s eyes, not averting her gaze even for a second.

“It’s been a long time, since anyone has been sincere with me and even longer since they said anything nice about me.” – Morgana said.

“I once helped a boy to become a god-king, he didn’t deserve his empire, I’ll be damned if I don’t help you win back your kingdom.”

“What if I don’t want you around only for you to help me fight?” – Morgana suddenly grew confident, but a blush was creeping slowly up from her cheeks.

“What _do_ you want me around for?” – Artemisia challenged.

There was not a straight answer to that question, the tension that filled the air was so notable that it made goosebumps appear on Morgana’s arms even though she was wearing a dress with long sleeves. It wasn’t possible to deny it anymore, all those brushes when with each other while they trained, the courage Artemisia had shown earlier today on the bridge…

Artemisia came closer still and she could feel Morgana’s soft exhales on her lips, the younger woman was nervous, but she finally closed the remaining distance between them with a tentative kiss, soft lips moving against each other, hands wrapping around each other’s necks, fingers gently playing with the curls of Morgana’s neck.

 

_TBC…_

**Author's Note:**

> Oh and this soundtrack is good for listening while reading the story: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tp3pWCzh1hw   
> Let me know if you want to read some more of this or if it's better to leave it to the imagination. Thank you!


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